


Retracted Dragon Festival

by ofiutt



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Character Study (kind of), Fluff, Freedom Fighters, Kissing, M/M, Romance, almost angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26302771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofiutt/pseuds/ofiutt
Summary: Zuko, on the other hand, felt somewhat awkward attending a local jamboree that celebrated his uncle’s globally infamous shortfall from his past military career. Nonetheless, the latter seemed to be entirely serene towards the holiday, vibrant even, despite only due to the apparently tantalizing fireflakes that he had been pressuring his nephew to get for him.
Relationships: Jet/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Retracted Dragon Festival

Zuko hesitantly walked over to the table that Jet occupied once he had finished serving all the other patrons, placing the Freedom Fighter’s cup of tea in front of him before sheepishly pecking a kiss on his head. Jet’s infamous smirk spread across his face and jocularly offered the shorter boy to ‘take a break’ by sitting on his lap. Zuko grimaced at the jest with a roll of his eyes and gasped when he felt a brief sting on his backside induced by the boy behind him.

He managed to get permission from Pao to relieve him of his shift early once he noted that Jet, their only remaining customer for the evening, began to leave so he dismissed the former. Zuko also reminded his uncle about his departure, who wished him a ‘fun’ night at the Retracted Dragon Festival before the boy practically scampered for the exit where Jet and his friends were waiting for him.

Pao had been quite lenient with his egress for the night due to the holiday that was being commemorated throughout the Lower and Upper Rings. He pondered giving his employees the day off earlier due to the possibility that the festival would be stealing potential patrons anyway, but to his satisfaction Iroh’s tea-brewing abilities seemed too good to be overshadowed by such a momentous occasion.

Zuko, on the other hand, felt somewhat awkward attending a local jamboree that celebrated his uncle’s globally infamous shortfall from his past military career. Nonetheless, the latter seemed to be entirely serene towards the holiday, vibrant even, despite only due to the apparently tantalizing fireflakes that he had been pressuring his nephew to get for him.

The consistent teasing by Smellerbee involving him and Jet’s relationship -for the lack of a better term- had him itching to hang her next to one of the rows of dragon-face masks that reminded him of the Blue Spirit veneer he inherited from his mother. The most he could do, however, was emit a couple of reproachful glares in response. Fortunately, the girl’s derisions were short-lived when she eyed the stir of boiling noodles at one of the many street stalls occupying the joyful residents.

“Jook-sing! C’mon guys, I’ve always wanted to try those. Food served for royalty is being sold at great prices here,” Smellerbee exclaimed, tugging at Jet’s tunic for emphasis. The latter grinned and looked at Zuko to Longshot. “What do you two think? I’m down.” The two of them glanced at each other before Longshot simply blinked at Jet, who immediately began dragging Zuko towards him and his Freedom Fighters without acknowledgement for his insight.

Each member of the group contributed two silver pieces to their order in an attempt to conserve much of their money, requesting a bowl for Zuko and Jet and another for Smellerbee and Longshot. The four of them loitered near the side of the stall as they watched scattered toddlers playing with souvenirs while garish street performers inhabited the majority of the pavement they stood over.

Smellerbee’s anticipation for the meal quickly permuted to disappointment when the mixed flavor of duck egg and flour seemed too foreign for her taste. Contrarily, Longshot’s usual deadpan guise had shifted to visible approval the moment he had slurped the first noodle into his mouth; possibly the most expressive Zuko had ever seen him since their first encounter at the ferry.

He and Jet ate in silence nearby as they leaned against the armrest of an occupied bench (it seemed that all the seats predictably were) when Zuko practically beamed at the nostalgic tang that entered his mouth. Jook-sing noodles were the equivalent of a takeout dinner for cheapskates as scrutinized by his personal upbringing, something he had never internally broached in the aristocratic vicinities of which he was raised but he didn’t exactly want his mind to abide in that right now.

The taller boy shot him a smirk, half-lidded eyes inspecting Zuko’s face as the latter traced his gaze along the noodle hanging from Jet’s mouth to where it ended, the realization evoking the unmarred side of his face to flush light red. Zuko distantly heard Smellerbee’s chaff at the pair to kiss as he absentmindedly slurped until meeting the Freedom Fighter’s mouth halfway, swallowing his end of the noodle before turning his head to the side, moving his lips along Jet’s.

He tried to ignore the salty taste of grease that accompanied his date’s mouth and continued to revel in the very essence of Jet, heat never discarding his healthy cheek as the palm of his left hand supported the weight of the bowl along with the taller boy’s. “You good Li?” he purred when they broke apart, grinning down at Zuko as the latter nodded dumbly. Jet barked a laugh, and soon enough the group disposed of the empty plastic jorums as they followed the crowd to an awaited farce.

Zuko leaned the side of his head against Jet’s chest, a hand resting on his back while the other grazed his torso obscurely as the pair watched the stage play amongst an audience of parents seemingly dragged by their peevish kids. Smellerbee and Longshot had agreed to separate from them temporarily due to their desire for participating in carnival games, as well as preconceived boredom when watching the sketch itself, which wasn’t that inaccurate to begin with: a resolute young Iroh leads a battalion of relentless Fire Nation soldiers to breach the Outer Wall of Ba Sing Se in order to conquer it until he renounces his goal out of indolence and cowardice. Well… the last part was more emphasized out of consideration for the children during the parody.

The shorter boy, nonetheless, was more focused on Jet’s reaction to the play, which was an occasional chortle similar to that of the parents. Zuko was distantly relieved by his expression; the Jet he knew back at the ferry would practically seethe with passive-aggressive rage at any reminiscence involving the Fire Nation, albeit his reactions to such narratives were more or less indifferent now.

A brush of his thumb across Zuko’s side gave him an extra boost of reassurance as the farce seemed to approach its conclusion: a personificated wall of brick heroically defeats the majority of his uncle’s (well, “uncle’s”) army before the latter surrendered in a wishy-washy apology about underestimating the wall’s strength. Now, the shorter boy was aware that he should be offended, he really was, but he couldn’t repress the snigger that escaped his mouth during the finale to which Jet joined in with a chuckle of his own.

The Freedom Fighter gestured Zuko to turn around with a squeeze of his shoulder, leading them away from the dilapidated stage. The two of them began to walk towards a fireflake stand that just about sold out when Jet bought a large package for the shorter boy, whose eyes grew wide when he realized that his date spent the remainder of his money on that particular purchase.

Zuko rewarded him with a scowl that instigated a series of kisses across Jet’s face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” the shorter boy rebuked, resting his hands on the Freedom Fighter’s chest. “You shouldn’t have wasted away your pockets the way you did. This amount of corn syrup could kill my uncle for someone his age.” The taller boy shrugged off his remark with a smirk and a subtle heft of Zuko’s chin to meet his towering gaze. “I just thought he deserved something nice for brewing me tea on the house. Didn’t he ask you for some anyway? I just saved you the rest of your pieces.”

He pecked a kiss on Zuko’s forehead. “C’mon. The Festival’s not over yet. I still wanna see the fireworks.” Soon enough the pair had reunited with Smellerbee and Longshot, who had won a couple of ridiculously large stuffed animals and some sort of deluxe brand of Earth Kingdom candy Zuko wasn’t familiar with. The four of them departed from the crowds into the sepulchral emptiness of the neighborhoods from which they came and mounted one of the buildings that occupied it, not too far from the fête.

The shorter boy sat in between Jet’s legs on the roof, back leaning against his frame as the latter encased his arms around Zuko’s chest while the underside of his jaw rested atop of his serrated hair. The other two Freedom Fighters were completely mesmerized by the variegated eruptions of sound across the starless sky, absentmindedly sharing candy beside where Jet and Zuko sat.

Both boys huddled against one other, not minding the detonations of noise occasionally stinging their ears as Zuko clutches the bag of fireflakes his date bought for his uncle. The shorter boy distantly recalls how Iroh would tell him anecdotes when he was younger; his sides being cradled by his late cousin as his uncle emphasizes his stories with expressive arm gestures and exaggerated faces while they celebrate Lu Ten’s 13th birthday under the shade of an Arakawa tree. Or was it 14th? Whatever.

Zuko also vaguely remembered the stories Iroh would tell after a few months of silent grieving for his son, typically those involving notable mishaps that had occurred to his crew during their six-hundred day siege. The spiels were seemingly explained in such an aggrandizing way that they occasionally earned a distant eye roll from Zuko’s father. The same spiels that Zuko used to recall whenever a relative would chastise him for a supposed mistake in order to build upon his resilience.

The same spiels that would be remembered across the world as a combined paradigm used to remind new generations that they are doomed to repeat history if they do not learn from its mistakes.

Zuko reluctantly lifted his weight off of his date’s figure, stretching out the sensation of being impounded within the same position for perhaps half an hour, assisting Jet in standing up as well before the other Freedom Fighters followed suit and gathered up their prizes. The four of them descended off of the roof and soon enough onto the ground before they started to walk back home; Jet finding the shorter boy’s hand and intertwining their fingers as they strolled side by side in requited commiseration for the impending conclusion of their date.

The group sauntered in abiding silence until they reached the tea shop, Jet encouraging his roommates to head off without him in an assurance that he’ll catch up with them after the pair bid farewell to Zuko. Jet and the shorter boy halted in front of the door frame, Zuko lightly dropping the package of fireflakes onto the ground. The pair briefly stood there gazing at each other’s faces with half-lidded eyes, indentured under melancholy, infatuation, and fatigue.

Jet broke the adamant juncture with a heft of his arm, tacitly cradling the marred side of his date’s face with the palm of his hand before the latter pulled him down by the collar of his tunic and abruptly kissed him.

The shorter boy lingeringly moved his lips with that of Jet’s in synchronization, the Freedom Fighter absentmindedly grazing his arms across Zuko’s back in unspoken laudation as the other lay his elbows on Jet’s broad shoulders. The two of them eventually detached their mouths from each other ploddingly and rested their foreheads against one another’s instead, Jet’s hands now settling along his date’s sides.

“You know what I was reminded of when we saw the fireworks earlier?” he whispered in a smile, ever so obscurely. “What?” Zuko murmured. “I was reminded of you.” The shorter boy perked his head up in befuddlement. “And I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Jet appended in reassurance, pecking a kiss upon Zuko’s lips for emphasis. “Bye Li,” he announced, his beguiling smile remaining on his face as he fully separated himself from the other boy. “See you next week?” The shorter boy nodded. “Uh, y-yeah.”

Jet began walking home, leaving Zuko with a newfound sense of disclosure.


End file.
